Dear Betty

We are now 80 who used to play
Rita Hayworth and Betty Grable
Your mother’s woven rugs
As our lush mink stoles

Who ran away together and hid
Who watched the torchlight procession
Looking for us in the nearby grove of trees
And then got our only spankings ever

Who played Hide and Seek
In my grandfather’s Chatham Nurseries
Running down the paths between
Even rows of shrubs and flowers 

Which still come to me at night
Yews, azaleas, ones I could not name
Giant blooms with reddish purply petals
Falling across the path before our feet

We are 80 who bought our bliss
From the jolly jingly ice-cream man
But were not allowed near the pot-pie vendor
With his forbidden goods, which we bought anyway

With dimes and nickels stolen from closet pockets
Devoured the spicy cakes behind the shed
And never threw up—Betty, we are 80
I have not seen you in over 60 years

If you are walking anywhere on this earth
please tell me